Cannon

26

A thought occurred. “Cannon, I’ve seen you shift, but that thing in your neck…”

“When I agreed to their plans, they replaced the original implant with one that lets me partially shift so I could get you.”

“What purpose does that serve?” she asked. He shrugged. “That’s inhumane. It’s not right. Why do they want you so bad?” she whispered.

“Fear,” he simply answered.

Ryver scoffed. “I feel like it must be more by the amount of effort they are putting into it.”

Cannon continued along the path, leading them with the flashlight. “The prison is slowly starting to become known. Maybe the public will oppose it as I do.”

That was something Ryver hadn’t thought of. Perhaps she could bring attention to their plight. Or to at least expose it to the world. Ryver knew this was how Cannon felt, and she was starting to believe many people all over the world would have a problem with this.

Those in power had taken away these shifters’ freedom.

They continued to walk through the night, stopping only to take on water and have a snack or two. The protein bars were keeping her full, but she was definitely going to need a real meal soon. She felt her clothes getting bigger, day by day – and not in a way that she wanted.

They arrived at an area of thick brush. Cannon took Ryver by the hand and led them both through. Ryver could barely see, but she trusted Cannon. He used his flashlight in his other hand, both to show them the way and to push away branches. Below them was damp dirt, squishing underneath their boots. It was cramped, so they moved slowly.

“There’s a branch here right at your level. Watch out.”

When branches would pull back against Cannon’s body, he would warn Ryver before pushing past it. She would raise a hand and block it. She was thankful for the few times a small branch nearly slapped her in the face.

“Thanks for that.” Ryver giggled as she pushed through the brush. Just as she was stepping over a thick log, she heard a sound that caught her completely off guard. She stopped moving completely.

“Cannon, wait a minute,” she whispered. He stopped, then turned back to her, still holding branches.

“What is it?”

Ryver held up her finger to her lips to keep Cannon from talking. She heard the sound again. It was high-pitched. “I think a baby is crying out there.”

CANNON

Cannon stood in the middle of the brush, not knowing what to think of what he was hearing. He listened intently again and did think that it sounded like a baby crying. But he feared it might be a setup – getting to Ryver was seeming like a priority for many people these days.

“Ryver, it might be a trap.”

The crying sounded off again, and it was slightly ahead of them and to the left. If they kept going straight, they would surely pass it. Ryver pulled at his hand as he began to walk forward.

“I know,” she groaned. “But if it’s not? We can’t just leave it!” she whisper-shouted at him. He didn’t want to leave it either in case it actually was a child in the forest. How the hell did a baby get all the way out here anyway?

Cannon pulled back at her hand and whispered back to her. “We have to be careful. Let’s go slow, just in case.” He could tell Ryver was concerned, and he was as well. But their lives were on the line, and they had to treat every moment like it mattered.

Cannon moved slightly to the left to follow the cry. He continued to step lightly, squishing into the wet dirt. He wanted to feel around for landmines in case the cry was just a recording. He had seen traps that took advantage of the kindness of people’s hearts. If he found a mine, he could let it explode in his dragon form, and he could survive it.

It took them almost half an hour to get even close to the sound. Cannon felt Ryver itching to move ahead faster. He held her back, reminding her that they needed to be careful. She huffed at him, but he understood the sentiment.

They finally arrived at where the baby’s cries were coming from. There was a small clearing, and Cannon was able to make out outlines lying on the ground. One was much larger than the other. The tiny one was moving under a covering. He continued to walk slowly and carefully in a systematic pattern surrounding the baby. When he had cleared the area, he motioned for Ryver to step forward.

She nearly ran to the baby’s side. “It is a baby! Cannon, it’s a baby!”

He came to her side and pushed the blanket aside. It indeed was a male infant, arms and legs flailing in the air. The shape beside him was his mother, who had been shot and left for dead. Cannon winced at the sight of her.

“Jesus Christ.” Cannon touched the baby’s face. It felt cold and probably hungry. “Here, pick him up for me.”

Ryver lifted him with ease, wrapping up the baby. The child continued to cry. Cannon placed his hand over the child’s forehead. Ryver watched in astonishment as the baby’s cries turned to whimpers, then quickly fell into a restful slumber.

Cannon felt his own warmth move through his fingers and into the baby. He was glad the babe was able to rest.

Ryver stared in amazement. “What the hell was that?” she whispered.

“I told you, I’m a human furnace.” Cannon winked. “You don’t get to be a dragon without using your warmth every now and then.”

Ryver grinned, then held the baby against her chest. A look of concern flashed over her face.

“What are we going to do? We can’t leave him here.”

Cannon shook his head. He knew this was going to slow them down, but there was no way he was leaving a child out here to die. There was probably a village nearby they could leave the child, so it was safe.

“We aren’t going to leave him. I have an idea about where we can take him. Come.”